Let me be honest.
I know the story.
I have heard it and read it my entire life.
But even with that being the case, I don’t really know what happened.
I don’t know what happened early that morning at the tomb.
Or. later that day on the road to Emmaus.
Or, sometime after that in that room somewhere in Jerusalem where, after watching Jesus be tortured and then executed, most of the disciples hid in fear. Or, even later still when the disciples were back home and back on the lake fishing.
I don’t know what happened.

Or, how it happened.
I don’t know what caused the women to suddenly recognize Jesus when they had not known him a moment before. Or, how Cleopas and his friend could walk with Jesus for a couple of hours and not know to whom they were speaking, and then suddenly recognize him. I don’t know what it was that eventually convinced those scared to death disciples to unlock the door and to step out into a still scary world and begin to do what they had seen Jesus do especially when they knew that what they were doing is what had gotten Jesus killed.

I don’t know what happened or how it happened, but something happened.
Something which the Christian community describes as resurrection which is something different and something more than just resuscitation and which, with experience and over time, led and leads to the Easter affirmation of Christ alive.

Something happened.
The stories are far more than just made up tales or wishful thinking.
At it’s deepest and best, resurrection makes the startling affirmation that love wins. That all that is of God – love and light and life itself – along with the best of what we can imagine for ourselves and for those whom we love and for the world entrusted now to our care and keeping… All that will ultimately prevail over hatred and darkness and even death.

And, resurrection is more than just what happened, but is in fact what happens. Resurrection, I think, is best understood in the present tense and not just in the past tense. In my reading this week I came across this which echos what I understand to be true:“We preach resurrection because the marchers in Selma needed to know that life and liberty, not the vicious billy clubs of local police, would be victorious. A family recovering from the shock of a daughter’s suicide can be reassured that there is life after death for their family. And as we work to end the need for the world’s 50 largest refugee camps (all but five of which are in Africa and the Indian subcontinent), we are confident that life and liberty will triumph over current injustices.” (John Wimberly, Presbyterian Outlook – March 30, 2015)

Easter, in a sentence, declares that the last and truest words are not hatred and injustice and death which we have heard so often before and which the world around us does its best to make us believe. But, believe it or not, the last and truest words are love and justice and life.

Which brings me to this story.
Bonnie Gordon, who lives in Masaya, Nicaragua and who works in surrounding communities doing what she can to improve the circumstances of some of the poorest families in Central America, tells this story.She was invited to her niece’s destination wedding which was taking place at one of the resorts in Cancun, Mexico. If you have ever been to Cancun or know of it or have been to some place similar you know those places are famous for their luxurious resorts and beautiful beaches. What you may not know about are the impoverished communities which surround many of these resorts. Anyway. Bonnie and the other wedding guests were met at the airport by the resort shuttle. While on the bus the young adult from the resort who had met them begins to talk over the bus’ sound system welcoming them to Cancun and telling them about all the resort has to offer. In the middle of her welcome, as the bus is about to go through the poorer part of the community before getting to the resort, the resort host says, “For a minute I am going to ask you to put your blinders on and not look out the window and just pay attention to me. I’ll let you know in a minute when it is okay to look again.”

Bonnie tells the story because she encourages those who live and work with her in Nicaragua to take their blinders off and to see…to really see..to fully see…the world around them. Not just what you want to see or what expect to see or what are told you are to see, but instead to see fully and deeply and honestly. And, when you do that, she says, your world suddenly turns right side up.

Beyond what I have already said, I think that is a bit of what the Easter message is about. Or, at least one way to think about it.
Taking our blinders off.
Seeing beyond what you expect to see and beginning to see what just might be. Taking our blinders off and seeing the world not only as it is, but also seeing it the way God intends it to be. The Easter way of saying that is that when we take our blinders off we begin to recognize Jesus when and where he stands in our midst whether at the tomb or on the road or in the office or among the forgotten and, when we see Jesus and recognize him for who he is, we find the vision and the courage to be and to live and to practice resurrection a midst the wonder and complexity of the world as it is.

The woman went to the tomb expecting to see only death.
Mary Magdalene mistook Jesus for the gardener.
Cleopas and his friend mistook Jesus as just another talkative traveler on the road to Emmaus.
Peter and the other disciples thought they had seen a ghost.
All of that until….

There is something about Easter;
Something about resurrection;
Something about the affirmation of Christ alive;That calls us to see our world differently,
And to see our lives differently,
And to live our lives differently,
Which, when we do, turns our lives and our sometimes crazy, upside down world right side up.

Let’s be honest.
Or, at least accurate.
Easter didn’t begin with the triumph with which we began our service this morning.
It begins in the dark.
For both then and now, the headlines in the news were and are more about crucifixion than resurrection. And life for too many still gets swallowed up by sorrow. And hopes continue to be dashed and dreams shattered whether by cross or by circumstance. We all know something of how that darkness feels. That being the case, we also know something of how those women felt who stumbled their way to the tomb of Jesus on that Sunday morning so long ago.
Shoulders slumped.
Eyes glazed over.
More empty than full.
More broken than whole.
Who, with tears in their eyes, willed themselves back to that Jewish cemetery.
They made their way there at some risk to themselves and in open defiance of the authorities who had crucified Jesus. But, despite the risk, they were determined to pay their last respects and to do what must be done in order to provide for a proper burial in their love-filled effort to counterbalance the shame and the horror associated with a Roman crucifixion. We can discuss and debate what actually happened in that moment when they arrived at the tomb or when that moment actually was, but that is not the point of the story and would only serve as a convenient distraction to what is really being asked and what is really at stake. The story turns on the haunting question asked of the women as they stood before that tomb with tears in their eyes. “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

Knowing Easter was coming…And that I would be here and you would be there,
I have been thinking about and asking myself that question for several weeks now.
And, truth be told, I have probably been thinking about and wrestling with that question in some way, shape or form for even longer than that.“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”It is the ultimate Easter question.
Posed first to the women…
And then…
And now…
To you and to me.Why do you look for the living among the dead?
Why do YOU look for the living among the dead?

The challenge for us in moments like this…
And maybe, to one degree or another, in all the moments of our life…
Is to decide whether or not to to trust that what we know of the Easter story is true.
True not just, or ever primarily about, what did or did not happen to Jesus,
But true that somehow in God’s grand scheme of things…
That crucifixion does not have the final word.
That violence does not have the final word.
That hate and fear do not have the final word.
That betrayal and failure do not have the final word.
That Death does not have the final word.
And, to decide, too, whether or not resurrection is possible.
And whether or not out of the chaos and craziness we sometimes experience in our own lives and see in the world around us, Life, in a way we could not imagine before, can and does emerge anew around us and within us.
The Easter question is this:
Beyond trumpets and flowers and bonnets and eggs and bunnies and baskets;
And, face to face with sorrow and brokenness and despair and death;
Can you hold onto…
Can you turn towards…
Can you believe in…
A hope like that?

But even then…
Even doing our best to hold onto that hope, we are still left with the question, “What next?”
Against all odds and evidence to the contrary,
What does it mean for you and for me to turn around and to seek the living?
Here is what I think I know.
It is not here, it’s somewhere out there.
It is not wrapped up in you or me, it’s somewhere out there.
Somehow seeking the living means stepping out into that world that crucified Jesus and continues to crucify people still.
It means caring and compassion.
It means seeing and naming and knowing those whom Jesus referred to as the least of these.
It means praying deeply, not for things or about things, but praying deeply enough that you find an intimacy with God that then nurtures courage enough and strength enough to live with an intimacy with others.
It means gratitude and grace deep enough that it humbles you.
It means refusing to turn away from the cross.
Refusing to turn away from the violence.
Refusing to turn away from that which demeans or demonizes or destroys another
And instead doing what you can;
Doing all you can;
To build peace and to bend that long arc of history in the direction of justice.
I may or may not do any of that very well, but my deepest convictions and my faith at its best tells me what I just said to you is true.

Now the truth is I can’t prove any of this to you.I can’t prove Life is stronger than Death.
I can’t prove hope overcomes despair.
I can’t prove gratitude matters.
I can’t prove compassion is the way to life.
I can’t prove that new life can emerge from all that would entomb you and me.
I can’t prove that sense of something of Jesus alive and with us still.
I can’t prove God has the final word.

All I know for sure is this.
You and I have a choice.
A choice about which direction we will face and about which fundamental values will guide and shape our choices and our decisions. A choice about narrative around which you will build your life.
So, as you consider the Gospel and the wild, life-changing claims of Easter,
Consider also your own life…
Your own hopes and dreams.
Your own vision for what tomorrow might bring…not just for you, and your household.
Not just for those who look like you and talk like you and live like you, but for all who fall within the circle of God’s love which, in the end, is each and every one of us.
In your estimation what does have the final word? Life or death?
In your estimation, surrounded as we are by those who still crucify and that which still entombs us, does hope endure and is new life possible?
In your estimation, are the wild whispers of faith which surround the Easter which we remember and retell today idle tales or profound good news?
You decide.On the first day of the week at early dawn, the women came to the tomb bringing the spices they had prepared only find the stone rolled back and to be confronted by the ultimate question of Easter. “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

Christmas is easy.Away in the Manger.Silent Night. Holy night.
Holy Week is hard.
My head understands the events of that take place.
Triumphant entry.
Confrontation in the Temple.
Crowds gathered to hear Jesus speak.
Celebrating the Passover.
God-awful crucifixion.
But while my head understands, my heart rebels.
I tiptoe towards the edge of the story, but then turn away.
I dare not get too close to the anguish and the betrayal and absolute brutality.
And, that only gets me to Friday.
Who really understands resurrection?
(Even though they have made a TV show about it.)
How do you put words around mystery?
Or, words around an experience which takes your breath away?

This afternoon a young man whom I have known for most of his life took the next “official” step in the process of becoming a minister in and for the Presbyterian Church (USA). I was ask to say something to him as a part of that process.
This is what I wrote (and said).
It was written with Ben in my heart and mind.
But, maybe meant for you and for me, as well.

Ben, let me begin with this:There is no way. You make it by walking.
So, as you continue your journey…
Know your history.
Honor tradition.
But always lean in the direction of tomorrow;
For that which we know and name as God is more than history and larger than tradition;
And always just beyond what we can name or know.

And, resist platitudes;
And easy answers to challenging questions.
Trust in God who is always understood better as a verb than as a noun.
And, follow Jesus as he plunges into the crowd hungry for bread and for so much more.

Pray deeply.
Dream boldly.
Hold fast to hope.
Do what you can to bend the long arc of history in the direction of God’s Kingdom come.
And, each day…
Be incarnation and practice resurrection.

After at least a week of extensive and exhaustive research, I have come to what might be, for some, a troubling conclusion. Despite what appears to be a trend to the contrary, and an enormous amount of money invested to influence public opinion, Easter is not primarily about…Easter bunnies.Or Easter eggs.Or Easter baskets.Or candy.It is also not about Easter bonnets.Or butterflies.Or spring.Or flowers.It is not even about the Easter parade.But, truth be told…All that is easy and easy to understand and easy to explain and, therefore, easy to celebrate.On the other hand, resurrection is hard.Hard to understand.Hard to explain.Even harder to live.Yet, here you are in a church, on this Easter Sunday morning,Going against the grain of public opinion and that which is easy;Doing your best to remember and to celebrate and to claim the promise of Christ alive. I am glad we can be here together this morning.

After Easter, a couple years ago, I received an email from a Jewish friend and colleague who recounted for me a conversation he had with a member of his congregation. He had been asked, whether seriously or tongue in cheek I don’t know, “How can Christians seriously believe that Jesus came back from the dead and went walking around?’ My friend ended his email by asking me, “What should I say?” In a few sentences, I tried my best to do what I am not sure I have been able to adequately do in 30+ years of Easter sermons and that is completely explain what I think resurrection is and means. After all, how can anyone fully explain something that is, at least in part, mystery and promise. But, in a few sentences I did my best and then clicked “Send.” Not too long afterwards I received his reply. And, while I forget the exact words he used and his email was long ago lost in some digital black hole, what I do remember is the touch of sarcasm wrapped around his response.

How can Christians believe that Jesus came back from the dead and walked around? Being again, now, just like he was before?Here’s the thing, I don’t think he did.I don’t think that is what resurrection means.I don’t think that is what Easter is about.And, I am pretty sure that is not what the Gospels describe when the use the imagery of earthquake and angels and stones rolled back. The Bible doesn’t talk about some type of resuscitation.Some heaven sent form of mouth to mouth or CPR.What the Bible talks about is resurrection.Not as he was before he was killed, but Christ alive in some new way.Presence.Yes.Real.Yes.But alive now to and in the lives of those who came next.Those who dared to believe what he said was true.Those who dared to live as they had seen him live.Those who dared to touch and to heal and to teach and to share and to care just as Jesus had.Christ alive…In them and through them.Now, what about you?

And, maybe that is what Easter is all about.Some wild whisper of faith that reminds us that what we celebrate today is not past tense, but present.Not only about Jesus or even primarily about Jesus, but mostly about you and me when we do our best to take what he taught and take what he did and embody it again in our own lives.To have Christ be alive again, in some small way, in who we are and through who we are and in what we do.And when we find the courage to live that way, Christ is present again and God’s Kingdom comes close.

So, maybe today…In the world in which we live…With the headlines in the news just what they are Christ alive looks something like this:When the hungry are fed, Christ is alive.When the broken are healed, Christ is alive.Can you say it with me…if not out loud, at least to yourself?When crosses no longer crucify, Christ is alive.When the stones of addiction or arrogance or abuse no longer entomb, Christ is alive.When you welcome the stranger, Christ is alive.When you care for another, Christ is alive.When you embrace the overlooked or forgotten, Christ is alive.When enemies are recognized as neighbors, Christ is alive.When hope overcomes despair, Christ is alive.When the poor are not pushed aside, but invited to join you at the table, Christ is alive.When you practice compassion, Christ is alive.When you pray deeply on behalf of another, Christ is alive.When we help God’s Kingdom come close, Christ is alive.When you come back from the dead, Christ is alive.

And so it is Easter.Thank God it is Easter.As we do our best to practice resurrection.And add our whisper to those other wild whispers of faith that Christ, indeed, is alive.

In the world out there, the candy has been eaten and the baskets put away, but here it is still Easter. At least for one more week. And before we turn away or move on to what comes next, one more time we stand face to face with the promise of resurrection and are left to discern what it means for our lives and for these days in which we live. So, this morning, these verses from John’s Gospel as he seeks to convey his understanding of the meaning of resurrection.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these? Simon said to him, “Yes Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time Jesus said to Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Simon replied, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Tend my sheep.” Jesus said to him a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to Jesus, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

– John 21: 15-17

The Sermon:

Many of us grew up reading or, at least, knowing about Newsweek or Time magazine. Both magazines represented respected journalism that was relied on to bring expanded information about the headlines in the news. In 2011, Newsweek had a weekly circulation of roughly 1.5 million. That means last week, at least, 1.5 million people saw this cover and read this headline:“Forget the Church. Follow Jesus.”Maybe you saw it or heard about it, as well.And, if that was not challenging enough the title of the lead article to which the headline referred was this:The Forgotten Jesus: Christianity Has Been Destroyed by Politics, Priests and Get-Rich Evangelists. Ignore Them and Embrace Jesus. Enough to give one pause, don’t you think?At least for those of us who carve out precious time on a Sunday morning to be in a place like this.And who are involved in the church…And who take our place in the tradition of Jesus.Newsweek!1.5 million people seeing the headline and reading the article.But, it gets worse.That respected weekly magazine, which so many relied on for so long, is three months late and 19 million people short.What do I mean?You may remember, in early January Jeff Bethke release a video on You Tube entitled “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus.”When I checked on Thursday, Mr. Bethke’s video had been viewed 21.5 million times.Leaving Newsweek in the dust. For those of us on the inside our initial reaction to both the Newsweek article and to the video is a stammered “But…” followed by all the reasons we think all of those out there are mistaken or wrong or don’t understand.“What is going on in the world out there?”We ask.“Why do they hate us so much?”

So, here is the tension.On one side is forget the church.On the other side is the witness of the Bible.Yes, misused and abused by some.But also preserved and protected and passed on by that church we are told to forget. Verses, stories, reminders, admonitions which you and I turn to for inspiration, and as a reminder of who we are called to be and what we are called to do. How do we begin to bridge that divide between where so many of them are and what we know and treasure and value about the church as we experience it?Maybe here…Through recapturing the message of verses like the ones we heard this morning from John’s gospel.There we might begin to find some common ground.Or, at least a signpost that might point the way.For, it seems that what continues to touch people out there…Those who want to forget the church…Is when we…When the church…When those of us who find meaning and hope in a place like this…When what we do matches what we say.When Christians practice what we preach without necessarily “preaching” at others.When, in the words of John’s gospel, we feed and tend and take care of and protect.When we practice resurrection.

Here is something I wrote on my blog this past week that seemed to strike a responsive chord both among those who know me and regularly read what I write, but also among some whom I have never met and have no idea who they are.

I wrote:

Here is what I think… I care more about what you do and how you act, than about what you tell me you believe. I care more about the language you use when you talk about and to other people, than whether you went to a church or a synagogue or a mosque last week. I care more about whether you treat others the way you would like to be treated and whether you are grateful and generous, than whether your belief in God or Allah matches my belief in God. I think how you behave is more important than what you believe.

Maybe that is why I find more common ground with those whose faith tradition is different than mine, and even with those who ask thoughtful and thought-provoking and challenging questions about my faith, but who I see, day-in and day-out, treating others with respect, spending their money thoughtfully, and doing their part to make the communities in which we live better, than those who demand some form of “correct belief” and are dismissive of me and others when we disagree with them.

Is that something of what is needed? Of who we are called to be in the world?

In an article I read recently it said that research shows that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to master a craft. At four hours a day, seven days a week that translates into nearly seven years.If it takes that long…And we are to practice what we preach…If we are to practice resurrection…Maybe we better get started.